The Beauty Within
by tigerlily-parade
Summary: Prince Roderich and all of his servants have fallen under a spell which can only be broken when he finds true love. Gilbert, a commoner, needs to find a wife if he wishes to secure his inheritance-and fast, for it soon may be passed to his younger brother. Elizaveta could be the answer to their problems, but will she ever fall for either one? Loosely based on Beauty and the Beast.


**Author's note: **Okay, so I know this has been done before, but I have yet to see it done with this particular set of characters. Also, the idea first came to me last summer shortly after returning from Disney World, so it's kind of where my mind was at the time :P I hadn't originally intended to actually write it, but it's been floating around in my head ever since.

And just for clarification, "loosely based" means that it will follow the same basic storyline as the original, but certain things will be added/removed/changed to better fit the characters/make it not _exactly_ the same story.

Enjoy! :)

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**Prologue**

Once upon a time, not so long ago, a young prince lived in an enormous, magnificent castle. Prince Roderich had everything he desired, from books and ballrooms to an entire team of servants ready to fulfill his every demand. His most prized possession, however, was his piano, which he played nearly every day. He had a great love for music, though that love did not extend to other human beings. The prince was spoiled and cared only for himself. He loathed being in the presence of those he did not consider as refined as him and typically kept himself isolated from the rest of the world. It was this attitude that eventually brought a great disaster upon the castle and all who lived there.

It happened on a stormy evening, when strong gusts of wind shook the castle walls and heavy raindrops pounded against the rooftops. All of the dinner plates had been cleared and most of the staff had retreated to their respective bedrooms, leaving only Roderich's top servants by his side.

"It feels rather chilly in here, don't you think, Francis? A fire would warm the room nicely," he said to one of them. He took a seat in one of the chairs beside the hearth of his sitting room, making it quite clear that he wanted the fireplace lit, but that he was not about to do it himself.

"Of course, monsieur," the Frenchman replied. He took a match from a wooden box on the mantle and struck it against the bricks of the chimney, setting said match aflame. He then held it to the logs, which ignited rather quickly despite the damp air. He tossed the match into the fire and took a seat in the chair opposite Roderich. "Do you intend to play tonight, monsieur?" he asked.

"Of course I do, but not until I have my tea," the prince replied. "Arthur should be along with that shortly."

"Ah, I see. Shall I harass him for you for taking too long?"

"Leave him be for now, he is efficient enough. It is unfortunate, though; some days it feels as though the two of you and Tino are the only ones I can depend on, not to mention stand to be around. If it were at all possible to just keep the three of you and release all of the others, I would do it without second thought."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that," Francis said with a bit of a nervous laugh. "The maids seem to do their jobs rather well."

"No, I mean it—I really would. I can only hope that Peter will be capable of doing half the work that you manage to finish in a day. I let him stay now because he is still dependent upon Arthur, but he will be working for me soon enough if he wishes to remain here."

"But he is only just a boy."

"For now, perhaps, but he will not be forever."

"That is true, I suppose."

Francis decided to not comment any further on the subject. Apparently, in the eyes of the prince, a person's worth only amounted to their usefulness. He did not agree with this idea and believed that all people were so much more than that, but he knew that trying to win an argument against Roderich would only be a waste of energy. He instead sat in silence, letting his thoughts wander to other matters. His sapphire eyes drifted back to the hearth, where they fixated upon the flames in front of him. The fire had spread quickly to occupy its entire space and he watched it intently, almost transfixed by it. Something about it simply fascinated him.

"Your tea, sir."

The voice cut through the stillness in the room and snapped Francis out of his daydream.

"What, none for me?" he asked, smirking at the servant who had just entered.

"If you had asked me for tea earlier, frog, I would have made you some. If you want any now, you'll make it yourself."

"Relax, Arthur, you know I am just poking fun. Now hand the master his drink before it gets cold."

"Of course. I didn't realize you were suddenly in charge here."

"Well, I am the eldest, after all."

"Oh, so you're going to play that card, are you? Such maturity for your age."

"Enough, both of you," the prince interrupted. "Do you remember what I was saying a few moments ago, Francis? About how there are only a few of you I can tolerate? I take it all back; the bickering that you and Arthur get into is insufferable."

"My apologies, monsieur," Francis replied, bowing his head slightly.

"Yes, sorry about that. Is the tea alright?" Arthur asked.

"Just what I needed, though a bit hot at the moment," Roderich said after taking a sip. He set the teacup down on a small table beside his chair. "Perhaps I will play for a bit while I wait for it to cool. I assume both of you will be joining me in the music hall?"

"You know we will, your highness, as we always do. Right Francis?"

"Of course."

"Oh, you're going to play on your piano tonight, Prince Roderich?" came a fourth voice, this time a much younger one. All three heads turned in the direction of the sound to see Peter, Arthur's much younger brother, standing in the entryway.

"Yes he is, but not for you," Arthur told him firmly. "I believe it is well past your bed time. Where is Tino, anyway? I thought he was supposed to be keeping an eye on you."

"He's making my bed so that I can get in it, but with this thunderstorm going on I really don't want to, so I snuck away. I would rather stay up and listen to the prince play his piano. I love listening to him play."

"You will have plenty of opportunities during the day time to do so," Arthur said, "but right now it would be best if you went to sleep."

"Come on, Artie, just this once?"

"Not tonight. Also, I don't know where you picked up that name but I would prefer you didn't call me it." Arthur gave his brother a long, hard glare, not daring to back off for even a single moment. He knew that doing so would probably result in Peter deciding that he could probably still get away with his behavior, which was the last thing the Briton wanted. He had enough to deal with as it was.

"I heard one of the other servants call you that," Peter told him, "I think it was—"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that it's your bed time and you aren't in your bed." Arthur walked over to Peter and grabbed him gently by the forearm, intending to lead him away, but the boy struggled against him and managed to wrestle himself free of his grasp.

"What if the prince says it's okay for me to stay up and listen?" he argued. "You wouldn't mind, would you, sir?"

"You will do as your brother sees fit," Roderich replied. "If that means you are to be in your bed, so be it."

"Fine," Peter mumbled, finally admitting defeat.

"Come on, let's get you where you belong," Arthur said, taking his brother by the arm again. The boy did not struggle this time, though he didn't appear too happy. "I promise I will be right with you, your highness."

"Do as you must," Roderich replied. "You will know where to find me when you return. Francis, carry my tea, will you?"

"As you wish, monsieur."

Peter went willingly with his brother up to his bedroom, though he sulked and dragged his feet the entire way. He didn't understand what was so bad about staying up late for only a little while, and just this one time. He never got to do that. Why was it such a big deal?

Upon entering his room, the two of them found Tino making Peter's bed just as they had expected. The Finn acted as a sort of caretaker for the boy, as Arthur had difficulty raising him on his own. He had other responsibilities as a servant to the prince, and the fact that he and his brother rarely got along made it that much more difficult. Their family situation had apparently been complicated and eventually led to them residing at the castle, though no one knew their full story. The other staff members suspected that Francis knew more of the details than anyone else. None of them dared question him about it, though, knowing he wasn't likely to give up any information.

"There you are," Tino said, smiling at the sight of them. "I was starting to wonder where you had run off to."

"The prince is going to play his piano and I wanted to listen, but no one will let me stay up. My stupid big brother says I have to go to sleep but I don't want to."

"Watch it," Arthur snapped.

"He's right, you know," Tino replied. "Getting to bed on time is an important part of feeling well-rested the next day. How about I tuck you in and read you a story? Will that help?"

"No!" Peter shouted. "I'm twelve years old; I don't need that baby stuff!"

"Now, now," his older brother said, "there's no need to be rude. Tino was only trying to be helpful."

"I know, but he should know that—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud rumble of thunder erupted directly over the castle, startling all three of them. A few moments later, a white ball of fluff scurried into the room and disappeared underneath the bed, barking and whining.

"Apparently she isn't too fond of the storm, either," Arthur chuckled.

"I guess not," Tino replied. "Here's a new idea for you, Peter: if we can get Hana to come out from under there, I'll let her sleep with you in your bed tonight."

Peter's expression lit up at the idea of this. He loved Tino's little dog—she was so small and energetic, making her lots of fun to cuddle! He supposed this was a fair proposal, given that he likely would not be getting out of going to bed no matter what at this point.

"Okay, I like that idea!" he said, rushing towards the bed. He got down on his hands and knees and lifted up the edge of the bedspread to look underneath. "Come on out, Hana! It's okay, the thunder is just noise, it won't hurt you!"

"Well, now that it seems that is settled," Arthur said, "I assume you can handle him from here? Prince Roderich has requested my assistance. Or, well, you know—presence, though I suppose they are one in the same with him."

"I should be fine, thank you. I wouldn't want to keep you from your assisting."

"Right then—have a good night, Tino."

"Good night, Arthur."

Arthur then left his brother's room, closing the door gently behind him. His next stop was the music hall. He knew the prince was only demanding they be there so he would have someone to listen to how talented he was, and he couldn't help but feel bitter about it. What he really wanted was to be in bed himself, though he knew that was not yet a possibility. At least this task would be somewhat enjoyable. It certainly beat trying to convince his brother to do as he was told.

On his way down the staircase, he thought he heard a strange noise. He stopped for a moment and just listened. It certainly wasn't Francis or Roderich making the noise, and it wasn't likely any of the other residents, either. It almost sounded as if there was someone at the door, but that just couldn't be. No one ever came to visit, especially not at this hour. When the sound came again, however, he felt sure that had to be it, and he rushed to the main entrance.

Still not quite believing his own ears, he half expected there to be no one at the door when he answered. Sure enough, though , when he opened the massive door, a withered old man in tattered, muddy clothes stood before him. He could only stare in disbelief.

"I am sorry to disturb you at such a time," the man said, "but I am afraid that I have lost my way and I am in need of shelter for the night."

"Oh, o-of course, come inside for a moment, and I will fetch the master," Arthur replied, stepping aside to let the man in. Clearly a peasant, Roderich would surely be furious to see him, but the Briton could not find it in his heart to turn him away at such a time. As he hastened towards the music hall, he could barely hear the piano being played over the sound of his quickening heartbeat. He could only imagine what kind of reaction he was about to receive.

When he entered the room, he noticed Francis lounging on a nearby sofa with a dreamy expression on his face as he listened to Roderich play. Arthur couldn't tell if he was completely oblivious to just how used they actually were, of if it was just that his deep admiration for the prince's talent outweighed that. Whatever the case, he wished—for just once in his life—that he could switch places with the Frenchman. It must have been nice to be unaware of the situation he suspected was about to unfold before them, if only for a few extra moments. Not to mention, Francis didn't have to be the messenger, either.

"Excuse me, your highness, I hate to interrupt," he said. Roderich glanced at him but did not cease playing the piano. Francis, on the other hand, shot him a look of concern, as his tone of voice had immediately caught his attention. Something was definitely not right.

"What is it, Arthur?" Francis pressed.

"Odd as it may seem, well… a man came to the door looking for shelter, so I let him in."

At this point, the music immediately stopped.

"What?" Roderich asked. His cold voice sent shivers down both Francis and Arthur's spines.

"Well, he seemed quite elderly and, you know, the weather, it's—"

"Where is he?!"

"Um, i-in the foyer, sir."

Prince Roderich jumped up from the piano bench and stormed out of the room, leaving his stunned assistants behind. The two could only stare at each other in silence for a moment. Though this sort of reaction was not entirely unusual, the situation itself just seemed odd.

Much like Arthur, Roderich half expected there to be no one in the front room when he arrived. He had no reason to suspect that any of his servants would make up some story just to aggravate him, but also could not believe that such a person would just come knocking uninvited. Sure enough, though, the man Arthur had spoken of still stood near the main entrance when he arrived, and his appearance was even worse than he had expected.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my castle?" he demanded to know.

"My name is Lukas, good sir, and I seek shelter for the night," the man replied. "If you prefer, I can be on my way as early as possible tomorrow morning."

"I do not normally allow your kind here," Roderich said, lifting his chin slightly as he looked down upon the unkempt man. "But since I am feeling generous tonight, perhaps I can make you a deal. What can you offer me in return?"

"You are a spoiled little boy, aren't you? Always wanting to know how you can benefit from a situation. If you can't, then it isn't worth your time, am I right? Well, I'm afraid I have nothing to give you in return. I am quite poor, you see, and my weak limbs do not allow me to offer any services."

"Then I must ask you to leave."

"You would turn away an old man, even on a stormy night such as this?"

"If he is not fit for my home, then yes."

"Do not judge others by what you see on the outside," Lukas warned, "for beauty also comes from within."

"I will hear no more of this nonsense. I order you to leave my home now before I have my servants force you out."

"So be it, then, but do not claim that I never gave you a fair chance."

The prince barely had time to respond before a bright flash of light assaulted his eyes and he reacted to shield himself with his arms. At first, he assumed it to be lightning, but when he uncovered his face, he saw a much different man standing before him. This man appeared much younger, with flawless pale skin and straw-colored hair replacing the wrinkles and thin gray locks from before. Roderich immediately regret everything he had said, realizing now that this seemingly ordinary peasant had actually been a sorcerer in disguise.

"Oh my goodness, I am so, so sorry! Please, accept my apology. Stay the night, or, in fact, stay as long as you need to," he pleaded.

"It's too late now," the sorcerer said. "You have already proven your true nature, and now I will you bestow you an appearance to match."

With another bright flash of light, an enormous pain rippled through the prince's body. He cried out in agony as horns spiraled from his forehead, and thick, dark hair spread down his neck, across his shoulders and down the lengths of his arms to his now razor-sharp nails. He grew to three times his size, and his face twisted into that of the most hideous monster imaginable.

In the meantime, Francis and Arthur remained in the music hall where the prince had abandoned them.

"What was this man looking for when he came here?" Francis asked, feeling rather uneasy after a few moments of silence.

"Only shelter," Arthur replied. "He seemed ordinary enough, although it does seem a bit weird that he would show up here of all places. It's not like we live just outside of town. He had to have traveled quite a distance."

"I agree, something is not right."

Moments after Francis uttered these words, they heard Roderich's cry of pain. The two servants flashed each other quick, alarmed glances before rushing toward the hallway in order to help. Unfortunately, they did not even make out of the room before crashing to the floor, hit with the same bright light as the prince. The next thing either of them knew, they both felt major head pain, no doubt from smacking their noggins off the ground. This, however, seemed to be the least of their problems.

Francis managed to pick himself up after figuring out he had ended up face-down on the cold marble, but was immediately thrown off guard by how much bigger everything in the room seemed—or rather, how small he had suddenly become. Yes, he had definitely become smaller, which he concluded after looking down at himself and realizing that something was much different. He then looked to where Arthur had fallen beside him, only to discover that the younger man had changed as well. In his place there was a clock flat on its back, seemingly alive and struggling to stand. Francis, still stunned from the whole thing, hopped over to his side—it was all he could do, as he now only had one leg to stand on (if one could even call it a leg.) He held out an arm to the Brit, who could only stare up at him in an equal amount of shock upon realizing the Frenchman had transformed into a candelabra.

This was very, very bad.

Suddenly, a loud roar tore through the entire castle. Heavy footsteps bounded towards them. They rushed to take refuge underneath the piano, and when Prince Roderich reappeared near the entrance to the music hall, the pair could only gasp out of fear. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.

"True love," he growled. "True love, he says! Only true love will break the spell. My entire castle is doomed for eternity!" Enraged, the beast stormed off to some other part of the castle, smashing nearly every object in his path. When all went quiet again, Francis became the first to speak.

"Doomed, indeed," he said, voice wavering. "For who could ever love such a beast?"


End file.
